On the shore, beyond the boats, was a tiny pier. They docked there and stepped onto land. A man approached them and Stinky I handed him a small piece of paper; this was examined in course and then it was Nicolai’s time to perform his duty. Gladly, he counted off fifteen dollars and gave it to the man.
“Broadway!”
“Pockets!”
“I want to go home!”
No matter what the future held for that band of crazies, Nicolai knew that he was free. He looked up and read a sign: Central Park Boat House. He wished them good night and good luck. They did the same; then a cold wind blew hard into his face causing his eyes to tear and Nicolai walked away and went home and to bed.
Chapter 5
Nicolai arrived home in short order, more exactly in two and a half hours order, but either the fates, or Rooka, or Rifka, or some other earthly elendil would simply not let his horrid day come to an end; and after, Nicolai remembered it not too fondly as The Day From Hell. A fitting movie title that, he thought, and so it is:
The Day From Hell
by
Nicolai Vicoff
with special thanks to:
Giusseppi Contrari
Chico Chicollini
Fisticuffs of The Yard
and
Uncle Rooka
(based on a true story)
FADE IN:
APARTMENTNIGHT
A dark, dingy apartment in New York City. A man lies in a restless, but deep sleep, the covers tossed and tangled. He is disturbed by something, nightmares perhaps. (This is NICOLAI).
CU NICOLAI’S FACE
He is drooling. Suddenly, somewhere, a phone begins ringing. NICOLAI pays it no heed, but it continues to ring. After the fifth ring, his eyes pop open. Perhaps he has realized that it might be important.
CUT TO:
NICOLAI PICKING UP PHONE
He has reached it before the sixth ring.
NICOLAI: Yes?
We see from his reaction that they have hung up. Then it suddenly rings again.
NICOLAI: Hello?
We can hear a great deal of static coming through the receiver and through that a voice.
VOICE: Vicoff?
NICOLAI: Hello, yes?
VOICE: Somebody is there? Vicoff, Hello?
The VOICE speaks with a thick Italian accent.
NICOLAI: Yes, yes, go on. This is Nicolai Vicoff.
VOICE: Hello?
CU RECEIVER
There is a click and the phone again goes dead. NICOLAI hangs it up and the camera follows him back to his bed when the phone rings again.
QUICK ZOOM as NICOLAI’s hand grasps it.
VOICE (with less static and correspondingly with an even thicker accent): Vicoff?
NICOLAI: This is he. Is this Contrari? I’ve been expecting your call for a time now. Has everything been arranged?
VOICE: No, no, no. No Contrari. Is Chicollini. You know Contrari?
NICOLAI: Bloody right I know him. He owes me a great deal of money. Are you with his firm?
VOICE: Know where is Contrari?
NICOLAI: Don’t you?
VOICE: No, no. Contrari, he voosh! disappear. I am partner. Look, when you see Contrari tell him for me to call me. Got business, OK?
NICOLAI: Wait. I’m not going to see Contrari, that is I hope to, have to. I don’t know where he is.
VOICE: But you call answer machine, yes? So you gonna see him. I no see him, tell him partner Chicollini call, OK? Got that, Chicollini. Good-bye.
The phone goes dead again.
INT. APARTMENTNIGHT
Medium shot of the room. The lights are now on. In frame are the bed on our left and the phone sitting silently on a small dresser on our right. Nicolai paces back and forth between these two, hands clasped behind his back, dressed only in some boxers. Superimposed over this is the face of a clock, its hands quickly rotating.
AUDIO: tick-tock, tick-tock, &c.
As NICOLAI paces the voice of a narrator is heard in voice-over.
NARRATOR (voice-over): Nicolai Vicoff, a man obsessed, obsessed with a man he’s never met. One Giusseppi Contrari, a shifty Italian Lawyer who promised Nicolai riches in excess of imagination in a convincing voice and then vanished. As Nicolai paces in the confines of his poorly kept apartment, he wearily ponders his financial future. What he does not know is that in a moment that phone will ring and at the other end of the line lies an unexpected turn of events.
The clock reaches five o’clock (having begun at 2:30) and the phone rings. NICOLAI picks it up.
NICOLAI: Hello?
SECOND VOICE: Mr. Vicoff, this is Giusseppi Contrari. I believe you’ve been expecting a call from me.
NICOLAI: Thank God. What’s gone on with Rooka’s estate? Is everything arranged?
SECOND VOICE: I’m in sort of a bad spot, Mr. Vicoff. I’ve had some troubles at home. I meant to meet you in Marseilles. Did you get my note by the way?
NICOLAI: I did, listen
SECOND VOICE: Good. Now everything is going to be fine. It’s nothing a good lawyer can’t fix. Legal problems, you wouldn’t understand. It’s nothing serious mind you, but I’ve found myself in the awkward position of having to sneak across the border into Austriapurely as a precaution.
NICOLAI: A Chicollini called for you.
SECOND VOICE (excited): What the hell did that SOB want? Wait, he called you, at this number, when?
NICOLAI: Just. Said he got the number off the machine. Listen though, truly I do sympathize with your problems but isn’t this all besides the point?
SECOND VOICE: I didn’t want to tell you this, but my problems are your problems and they all center around your dear uncle. Seems there’s some question about his death. Police are looking into it. Nothing serious I’m sure, but I’d say stay low; and by the by you may hear words thrown around, nasty words, words like graft and misappropriation of funds, which isn’t so much a word as a phrase, but you get the point.
NICOLAI: Didn’t want to tell me this? You could have put me on the scent before I chucked my life. I’ve had a hell of a time of it.
SECOND VOICE: You’ve had one? Try sleeping in four star hotels for a month. The five stars have all the best help, you know. My expenses will of course be included in my fee, but lets not worry about that just yet. I was a close friend of your uncle’s, well not close, but I have seen himfrom a distanceand I assure you that I’ve got nothing but your best interests in mind.
NICOLAI: The hell you have!
SECOND VOICE: Hear now! I didn’t spend six months in law school in Puerto Rico picking my ears. Everything will be taken care of. I’m not going to be able to come to New York for some time, but I’ve got an adjunct office there and they know the situation. If you go over there tomorrow, they’ll be able to explain things more clearly; and if you need some financial help in the mean time, well you didn’t use up all of your savings, did you?
NICOLAI: I’ve some left, emphasize some.
SECOND VOICE: Good, well been nice chatting with you. I’ll call you soon. It’s dangerous for me to remain on the phone too long. Wait! What was that? Did you hear a beep?
NICOLAI: No, listen
SECOND VOICE: Good-bye, I’ll be in touch and in the future you will know me by the code name Raven.
NICOLAI: Raven?
SECOND VOICE: Yes, because like King Arthur I shall someday return...or was that MacArthur? Never mind! Farewell.
NICOLAI: Wait, your people in New York. The address.
SECOND VOICE: Ah, yes, I almost forgot. Shyster and Crooke, 916 Third avenue. They have instructions.
The phone goes dead.
CUT TO:
CU NICOLAI’s face, a perplexed look in possession of same as we...
FADE OUT.
It was easy for Nicolai to dramatize what had passed in his current state: dizzy with exhaustion, consumed by anxiety, and confused out of his mind at the turn of events. One thing was sure, tomorrow he most certainly
planned to visit Messrs. Shyster and Crooke and straighten out the whole mess; and even if he couldn’t get all of the money he ought at least to get some. Questions about Rooka’s death, what did that mean? Seriously, I mean, he meant, the man was well over a hundred what possible questions could there be? There’ll be no questions when I’vethe phone rang again. Damn, what now?
FADE IN:
INT. APARTMENTLATER
NICOLAI answers the ringing phone.
NICOLAI: What now?
THIRD VOICE: No point in being rude, you’re in a heap of it as it is.
The connection was clear and the voice British.
NICOLAI: Who is this?
THIRD VOICE: Fisticuffs of The Yard they call me, at least within earshot. Now what have you to do with Giusseppi “The Hand” Contrari? Be straight with me and it’ll go easy with you.
NICOLAI: Contrari is my lawyer, my uncle’s lawyer. He is handling his estate.
THIRD VOICE: And...
NICOLAI: And, nothing. That’s it as neat as a ball of wax.
THIRD VOICE: What is that, some sort of code? (to someone else) Did you get that? Good. (to NICOLAI again) It’ll all come out in the end, friend. You see, we know that you know The Handwho I might add is one of the most dangerous criminals in Europe, not including Luxembourg, but I won’t because we’ve traced a call from his location to your location. We’re on to you, you lousy, dirty criminals. There you’ve got me all worked up now.
NICOLAI: Hello, is this some sort of jest?
THIRD VOICE: A jest, as in a mockery, an untruth, a joke, a light apéritif of humor in prelude to the main course of crime? Is that what you mean?
NICOLAI: In all verity and seriousness I mean are you choking my bloody chicken?!
THIRD VOICE (to third person again): More code, did you get it? (to NICOLAI) You’ll see now my friend, we’ve got it all on tape and we’ll decode your little cryptogram of crime and the last laugh will be on me, you see. For you will soon smell what those nasty French people call La plaisantre du petite poulet. We’re on to you perverts. You’ll rue the day you crossed paths with Fisticuffs of The Yard!
Some giggling can be heard coming over the phone.
NICOLAI: Who’s that laughing? Who is this?
THIRD VOICE (unconvincingly): Phyllis stop tickling my feet. Now you, Vicoff, maybe I can’t put the arm on you and your ruffians just yet, but we’ll meet again. Adieu.
FADE OUT.
Nicolai lay down again in his bed. It seems this evening has brought an unexpected turn of events. This Fisticuffs of The Yard threw a bit of curiosity on the whole business. It doesn’t make sense, even if let us say that Contrari has got himself in some trouble in Italy, why on earth is Scotland Yard on to him? Let us go further even to say that they do have an interest in him, they traced his call to me, OK. In order to do that, I imagine at least they would have to either know where he is calling from or that he would be calling me, neither of which makes sense; for in the former instance they would be able to go and pick him up and therefore wouldn’t want to call me for fear I might warn him; in the latter they would have to have preknowledge of my existence and phone number. They could have gotten my number from Chicollini, but he didn’t strike me as the sort of chap who’d turn in his partner, no matter what grievance, himself seeming not an unshifty character. On the other side of the coin, it could all be a contrivance designed by Contrari to somehow test my wits. It could have even been a stipulation of the will: All my earthly belongings shall pass onto Nicolai Vicoff, my nephew, but not until he has passed the three tests of endurance: dislocation, starvation, and mania, only then shall he be fit to carry on in my footsteps. Oh, Rooka, if only we had spoken before the end. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and with a picture of an ailing Rooka hunched over a secretary of cedar (though the more organic kind were not uncommon) scribbling away at his will and smiling at the mischief it would cause, he passed out.
FADE IN:
Caption: Part 2 Remembrance of Things Passed
INT. APARTMENTNIGHT
MED. SHOT, ANGLE looking down at a sleeping NICOLAI.
His head shakes uneasily back and forth. In the audio track we hear voices from his past, Rifka, Franz, the Administrator, Rooka, et al. These voices increase in volume and pace as the camera slowly zooms in on his face and as we get really close lose all aural coherence. The edges of the frame get blurry, foggy and we know to expect a
QUICK CUT TO:
SOMETIME IN THE PAST
EXT. A SPEEDING TRAINDAY
The train rushes past the camera, our voices from before form the pinnacle of its Doppler effect, subsiding as it rides into the distance.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRAIN STATIONDUSK
The train is stopped before a ground level platform. Passengers are deboarding, climbing three small steps to the concrete, with their baggage and children. A younger NICOLAI steps down and looks around. The small road behind the terminal is lined with cars into which passengers are loading themselves and their things. He does not immediately see what he is looking for and then a light of recognition.
MED. SHOT
Among the cars and milling people sits a very pretty, and very proper, though not very usual, horse and carriage. Up front a driver sits reigning the horses. Nothing else can be discerned through the darkened windows and then suddenly the door opens. An old man leans forward to have a look and beckons NICOLAI come to him.
INT. CARRIAGENIGHT
NICOLAI and ROOKA sit next to each other. Presently it is passing through a dark woods. NICOLAI is leaning on one arm, watching the scenery as they pass. ROOKA thumbs through a naughty magazine.
MED. SHOT past NICOLAI’s face, through the window and into the woods.
They pass at an amazing speed (for this form of transport at least) and occasionally a bright blue light flashes in the woods and then disappears.
NICOLAI: Uncle, what are those lights?
ROOKA (absently): Lights?
NICOLAI: Yes, in the woods.
ROOKA (looking briefly): Nothing, the villagers are playing vith some flashlights. They are amazed by electricity, myself I alvays prefer a candle.
NICOLAI: Oh... (awkwardly then) It’s good to see you again.
ROOKA: Shh! Better ve talk at home. Chisk! Chisk! Faster!
CU ROOKA’s finger pushing a button.
CUT TO:
MED. SHOT DRIVER, outside the cab.
A brilliant spark lights up from electrodes attached to the man’s temples. The carriage goes faster.
EXT. CASTLENIGHT
FAR SHOT through the gates of an old castle on a hill. The carriage is stopped in front of it. In the shadows, NICOLAI and ROOKA enter the front door. THE DRIVER lumbers with NICOLAI’s bags.
I Thought My Uncle Was A Vampire, But He Was Just A Creep Page 12
